Tu at Once

The mice kept nibbling at Goober’s feet - it was a playful exchange, which would summarily end in him kicking the tiny creatures across to the other side of the bamboo room.

He scratched his head absentmindedly out of habit - “Doors might be good” he called out loud, watching the drapes inhale and exhale from the wind outside.

Tu and Puck were far too absorbed in their sandcastle to be paying attention to him. It was a three dimensional mandala constructed from the ancient calcine remnants of earthly times: Babylon, Mexico, Australian shores, Egyptian silt, even crumbs from Atlantis. The particles would regroup to find their own and make patterns - moving patterns that glittered crystalline colours migrating through the tower that was almost three feet high.

“More, more!” Tu urged excitedly … but the canisters had all been drained, and there was nothing to do but watch their conical castle regroup and rearrange as the particles, like strings of ants that make their way to their own again. 

“Mortals always envision one homogeny of Mankind, yet the sands prove otherwise. This is a living teaching of the limitations the concept of oneness holds. See how the particles seek out their own? The countries, the ages, the peoples, their beliefs … these are all signified distinctly by their unique innate memory … and yes, even sand holds memories.”

He was now facing twenty young monks who had silently joined them to watch the swirling mandala - to see the patterns of circles and paisley, merge more and more until the cone settled into stripes: as though plates were stacked from the biggest to the base to the smallest at the top.

“From where does this one come?” asked a novice, pointing at the very top layer.

“Paradise” answered Tu, “It is from the very beginning of this World.”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

The Three Mountains

Three mountains stood shoulder to shoulder, mumbling to each other throughout the ages. They themselves were astride a ridge with a climb, and so progressively they were ordered in size - the third mountain appeared to be the tallest at the top amongst them, even though it was the smallest.

The tallest mountain wore the longest roots, and it sat like a grand molar in a valley of water shaded by the two above. The middle mountain creaked and groaned, being set between the two, always uncomfortable with its placement. Sheep trailed around its skirt, and foxes circled around its sheep. 

The tallest smallest pinnacle was the coldest loneliest of the three for no bird could fly to its apex, and the winds on high were sharply persuasive. The mountain that nested in the middle then enjoyed being fixed betwixt the two, and knowing his place thereby. 

The mountain at the base dipped its toes into the rivers of the world - some which ran under the ground and found their way many miles around. With ancient ears it could hear the chatter of the life that came and went, and with this, a single tree, at its base, laughed frequently.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Gazumped

Cloistered in and amongst the monk’s cells were dragons - astral dragons that sat guarding the shadows, the halls and the gardens of the weathered monastery.

Each one of them was a reformed being, having been domesticated by the masters one by one.

There were several that were responsible for the deaths of hundreds of mortals over time, and smaller elemental beasts that primarily infected areas with disease and disruptions.

Dragons can be the cause of landslides and bridges failing; they can equally corrupt a mind or feed an ulcer, inflame and fever, suppurate and contaminate.

However, the monks motto “tame the dragon and you will release Humanity” was a maxim they lived by. If ever any of the creatures reverted to their old ways, they would thrash them with a switch, or beat them with their brooms.

The dragons were compelled to stay within the confines of the cloister because the monks were empowered to hold them. And this deep magic had begun and continued with the help of the elvish adept, Puck.

It had started with salamanders, and continued on with beasts the size of trees, who bore the breath of a crematorium.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Heaven Can Wait

Jon unclipped the golden earring from his ear and handed it solemnly to Tindle. “His ghost has spoken in the very ear that has worn this - he wants you to have it and is might sorry that the bargain did not fulfil itself.”

“Nay, I cannot” he said returning it promptly.

“Might you not then come with me Jon?”

Although Tindle could not see her, Fatima’s etherial presence was standing right behind him - and Jon kept looking past his friend, seeking the opportunity to lie with her in the quiet …

“I am fearful Jon, that if you dwell with the ghosts you shall become one yourself.”

Tindle was far more perceptive than Jon had given him credit for.

He persisted: “If ye continue to lie down with your spirit love, you may not get up again - you are too young to forfeit your earthly life for the sweetness of death.” 

He persisted, “There will be all of eternity to dance the spirit dance, but friend, I am trying now to coerce you to come with me at least part of the way, that you might forestall Death’s calling.”

Tindle had once seen the spirit girl, and although she was the sweetest vision of pure soul, her resonance belonged now to a different world, one that would envelope and evaporate all earthly care if so allowed.

“Jon, you are already beginning to fade into a spectre yourself, for the sweetness of Heaven has caught your desires.”

Jon drew breath, like a newborn, pronounced and with the statement of life. He acquiesced so saying: “Heaven can wait.”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

The Raptor & the Peace

In the skies above the cities of the present, there are invisible raptors circling and swooping, feeding from the pulse and throb of the energetic thoughts expired by the emotional human crowds below.

These raptors were exiled into the invisible world, yet could not be forced out from its hemisphere as was hoped. Alike to all species of extinction, there becomes an etheric subset that still continues on.

Although they no longer have a substantive presence in the physical world, their kind (the Raptors particularly) persist as reptilian vampires, stalking the ethers in packs of screeching attack.

They contribute to the fear and anger that they feed upon. They stimulate the minds of men into such a panic, their energy is consumed, and the undercurrent to their daily thoughts is adrenaline driven.

Tyrannosaurs are tyrannical in their behaviours. Dinobirds are the antithesis to the angelic birds we know nesting in our forests and foliage.

Amarillo knew the difference between life and death, but he was confused when it came to the inbetweens. He perceived the dislocation of species - just as with the Raptors who were abandoned by their heritage home to circle the ethers above; he often would step into the adjacent worlds, where also the newly departed mortals would go.

Mostly he enjoyed watching their joyous release from the tedium and the pain - and their general world weariness. He could see the difficulties rise and split away from these souls, opening like a rose - many roses - about them; and, the worse the suffering, the greater was their radiance around.

But then there were those who, alike to the species in exile - there were the in-betweens — who could not move into the heavens, nor return to the Earth.

Some were suicides, who were forced to remain for what would have been their earthly term - compelled to watch and yearn for the family and food and air they once knew. These souls were constantly grieving, as though their final moments remained with them and thus tied them to the World, with the spiritual supplication awaiting them could not penetrate their sadness. There were no roses for them.

Then, there were the men and women (never children) who passed into the realm as atheists. This never went well, for they had not the spiritual sight to carry them further. These souls would be quite lost, and often times mumbling to themselves in this Hades of otherness.

Witches and warlocks would astrally project themselves into this realm to recruit some of these lost souls into their service. These were the Deceivers, as he liked to call them. When Amarillo came across a member of the black arts coercing a recently deceased mortal he would break up the discourse by showering them with a glamour of love. He found this easy to conjure, as he had nothing but pity for these tragic creatures of will.

It was always so cliché he would think to himself, trying to abate his annoyance at the veritable ‘shits’ of this spiritual society.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Time in a Bottle

“Put the bottle down please Eve.”

“Oh but I want to look into it.” Eve said with genuine enthusiasm.

“I said: put the bottle down before you drop it - please.” he insisted again. This time Puck was much sterner and she immediately obeyed. His serious voice was undeniable.

“This little boat inside the bottle is beautifully detailed,” she said while standing back … “master-crafted masts with detailed scrimmage, and look, look at the coloured twine - it seems so believably real.”

There was a label on the bottle: emergency use only.

“Curious” she said, eyeing the label.

“This is the very boat I travelled to Thebes in backwards until I found the end of the world” said Puck very proudly. His eyes turned a shade of grey violet as he recalled this, stuffing the curio back into his knapsack.

Eve laughed, it was good to have a little humour in the day.

“Should’ve liked to have seen that” she said.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Leafy Post

Nathanius would often procure a leafy post to steady himself when he walked. Being something of a giant, his limbs and balance often betrayed him. 

He did not have the dexterity of Jon Jon, who carried a little knife that his pa had forged when he was quite young. It was his only inheritance, of which he was duly fond.

Nathan still had the matter of the packet lost to the merchant (now deceased) - and the knowledge that the Parish back home was awaiting him. He had, for a time, forgone this troubling recollection, but it had returned to him along with the collective telepathic angst from his home village beating down upon his person with a tempestuous persistence, getting stronger by the day.

His conscience beckoned him to make all right again, and restore to his community either the trust of money, or the provisions that they were waiting for.

“Jon” he said awkwardly. Jon sensed the seriousness that weighed upon his speech.

“Jon, I am at a loss, in truth and in soul. What am I to do about the Merchant’s ruin and the monies now gone?” he sighed a deep and vacuous sigh.

“Well it seems to me,” Jon answered seriously (privately pleased to be confided in) “I believe dear friend that you have two choices before you: one is to return home empty yet with explanation, and offer to work til day’s end to make good for some of their loss - or, you could never go back, and they will then believe the worst: namely, that you have absconded with their trust, and have taken it for yourself.”

The latter was an abhorrent thought to Tindle, who genuinely loved the people of the village of the cliffs.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series